


Firelight

by imaginary_golux



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night they fell in love.  Written for Porn Battle IX.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firelight

Neither of them ever mentions about the evening after Belle discovered the library and really fell in love with the Beast, the evening when they sat together in the warmth of the low fire, there on the hearthrug, and read over each other’s shoulders. The evening when something she will never understand – some urge, some instinct – overtook Belle, and she turned to the Beast and pressed her lips to his, ignoring fangs and claws and fur, because he was sad and noble and almost kind, and even if she didn’t quite know what love was yet, she loved him, deep down. The evening when the Beast wrapped his arms around her and bore her gently, gently to the rug and pulled the loose dress from her limbs, leaving her bare and beautiful in the firelight, and just _looked_ at her for long, tense minutes while she stretched and preened and felt precious and desired and special and not at all strange.

But even that much could be explained away – an odd situation, loneliness, a desire to feel cherished by _someone_ other than her father. Loneliness does not explain why, when he lowered his great shaggy head and licked her breast, once, softly, tentatively, instead of screaming and fleeing she arched her back and sighed, “Yes.” Loneliness does not explain why she lay there, spread out like an offering on some pagan altar, while he licked each inch of bared skin, tongue cat-raspy and gentle and warm, until she shivered under the tender onslaught and moaned each time he pulled away. Loneliness does not explain why she spread her legs wide and willingly, and would have begged if he had not bent immediately to lick there, where she was tender and pink and damp with desire; why she clenched her fingers in his long fur and would not let go until he had brought her, gently, always gently, to a screaming peak of pleasure with nothing but that long, careful, near-prehensile tongue.

The next day she left to find her father; and the next time she lay bare before the Beast – he who had been the Beast – was after their wedding. But though they never speak of that night in the library, they have never forgotten it, either.


End file.
